


Episode VIII: Echoes of An Empire

by monkehh



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Expanded Universe, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-11 03:43:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5612659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monkehh/pseuds/monkehh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because two years is too long of a wait (and Rogue One will be awesome, but it's not exactly recent events!) I'm working on this taking the reins of the story at the end of Force Awakens.</p><p>While Finn lies in his coma, Poe sets out to investigate rumours of First Order actions, Rey meets with Luke and begins her training (kinda - Luke is not the optimist he once was) and Leia leads the Resistance, but is she coping with her double loss?</p><p>The First Order face a new enemy, and the Resistance must test an old adage - My Enemy's Enemy is my Friend. </p><p>That may not always be true.</p><p>UPDATE: Just to let any readers know - this will slow down a little over the next fortnight, I have exams and a big project deadline in work, so I'm taking some time to just plan out the next act or two so this doesn't derail while I rush stuff out, here's a glimpse of how much is about to happen: http://imgur.com/d0JUjfz</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Schemes

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't seen Episode VII: I'm just warning about this once: SPOILERS, SPOILERS, EVERYWHERE!'
> 
> I've added some original characters around the place to create a more fleshed out universe for our characters to run around in, and will be borrowing characters pretty liberally from the Extended Universe. I've added a new set of antagonists because I'm not the biggest fan of how the First Order are so similar to the villains we've seen before.
> 
> Finn and Rey wont come back into it until Part Two - I'm planning to put new chapters up at a fairly regular rate (eg. one a week), so if you like what you read, come back at the start of each week!

[This link points to a video of this story's starting crawl](http://www.starwars.com/games-apps/star-wars-crawl-creator/?cid=5687c264e4b0f23ba310f873)

 PART ONE: DARK FORCE RISING

* * *

 

Standing on his bridge, Captain Arian Perreia looked out the wide viewport onto the blue face of Manaan. Among the blue shades of the raging oceans, flecks of white and brown marked where the ruins of some ancient and forgotten civilisation hinted at a vibrant history in some time long past. Looking down at the planet, Perreia pondered the idea of heritage and memory. When his own ancestral home, Alderaan, had been destroyed, Perreia hadn’t even been a zygote in his Mother’s body. Sacrificed for a show of force, the kind of force it took to hold an Empire together, there was nothing left of Alderaan to mourn. That distance made it easier to forget, to condition that memory out of his mind.

He wondered which would be better, to be a child of this dead world and stare down upon the vestiges of your people, or to have nothing to look at, nothing to remind, and nothing to threaten your presence and loyalty of mind. Here, far from the great battles of the galaxy, Manaan stood silent, waiting. Waiting, just as Perreia did, but for something entirely different.

“Single contact on sensors”, the notice came from his sensor operator. Perreia stalked over to look into the display, the operator’s confusion coming clearly through in his voice. “Small ship, barely a half an AU of our bow, how’d he get so close without us noticing?”

Perreia smiled wryly, his Tartan patrol cruiser might be designed to track and target small ships, but he knew the man in that interdictor well enough to know that you only saw him when he wanted you to. Perreia turned to his Lieutenant; “You’re in command of the bridge, I’ll meet the admiral at the port-side airlock.”

Lieutenant Aspin saluted with the precision and sharp lines of a predator, but spoke in her usual casual, thrown away style, “Yessir.”

Before he left the bridge, Perreia turned and surveyed his command staff. All chosen for their loyalty and discretion. All trained by the Imperial Intelligence Service. Most importantly, all absolutely certain in their convictions. The Admiral had done well putting this team together, and even better by infiltrating them into the First Order.

…

In his small interdictor, he was just Loren Kotta again. No rank, no insignia, just him, his instincts and his ship. These small ships were the pinnacle of Imperial spacecraft, gracefully nimble, devilishly fast and shockingly deadly. Some might consider them a glass cannon, but Kotta had always seen a use in specialised ships. An exact tool for an exact job. That was the mistake in Superweapons, Death Stars, Starkillers, perhaps even Star Destroyers. All of your resources and capabilities pooled into one jack of all trades, one master of absolutely nothing except wasted material.

Kotta induced the ship into a barrel role with a flick of his wrists, watching the pointed nose of the cruiser swirl past his face as he rolled over to the port side of the ship, swinging his nose to face out into the emptiness of the void. He exhaled as the docking computer kicked in, finding the airlock’s clamps and guiding the ship backwards onto the cruiser’s flank. He undid the clasps securing his helmet, breathing in the slightly less stale oxygen of his pressurised canopy, flicking the controls of the ship’s stealth generator to full power, diverting from the weapons and hyperdrive but not the myriad thrusters dotted around the fuselage, leaving the ship invisible and nimble. Kotta undid his fasteners, and turned to open the hatch of his ship.

…

Perreia flicked his collar as the Admiral dropped down the ladder from the internal hatch. Not quite young, but not yet old enough to have lost any of his agility, he bounded down with graceful speed. The Admiral was a remarkably unremarkable looking man, but Perreia knew it was an affected banality. The Admiral prided himself on being impossible to remember. His only distinct features were the two cold grey-blue eyes that pierced his face. Short brown hair, flecked with grey, in a style that had no name - so much effort had been put into making it look like no effort had been put in at all. The Admiral wore a black uniform, no insignia, name or ribbons of valour, though Perreia knew he had a small trunk of those last ones with him at all times.

Perreia saluted, straightening his spine, puffing out his chest and keeping his arms at exact angles as he moved his right up to, and down from, his brow. The Admiral smiled in return, saluting quickly before beginning to stroll towards Perreia’s room. Perreia followed the Admiral, realising it was pointless to wonder how the Admiral knew where his room was on a ship he’d never been in before. They walked together in silence, Perreia watching as the Admiral scanned his surroundings, almost feeling a little smirk cross his unseen face every time he walked past the First Order’s insignia.

…

In Perreia’s room at last, Kotta watched the young Captain pour out two glasses of a brown liquor with a consistency that challenged soup. Perreia really was a very handsome man, more blessed in that particular area than Kotta had ever been. Not that that had ever been a problem for him. Unusually handsome and ugly faces get remembered more than those somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. Kotta wondered, not for the first time, if his focus on being unremembered by others had held back his career and concluded (again, not for the first time) that it probably had in the most superficial sense. Perhaps a better marketed version of himself would now be a Moff, Grand Admiral, or perhaps even a Grand Moff, but this version of him was, well, more effective than anyone currently holding any of those titles. He smiled to himself - _that was_ _not arrogance, not even confidence, it was certainty, a knowledge of one’s own place in the universe_.

Remembering the name of the alcohol suddenly, he realised it was from Alderaan, and he frowned, shaken for a moment. “Captain”, Kotta began: “I suppose we have a very rare and dubious honour in common now.”

Perreia looked up from the glasses, a puzzled expression on his face. “And what is that, Admiral?”

Kotta smiled, savouring the confusion spreading across Perreia’s face. “We both have the dubious honour of membership to that exclusive club of those who watched their homeworld burn.”

Perreia stopped, thought about it for a second, and realised the irony Kotta was getting at. “And we both couldn’t care less about our homeworld, we’ve only ever lived among the stars.” Kotta smiled, letting Perreia know he had guessed correctly. “I sometimes wonder Admiral, should I feel bad about not caring. Isn’t it something we should do?”

Kotta took the offered glass, shook his head, and replied: “I have no such concerns. Hosnian Prime was a symbol of the Republic. It served as a counter-point to Coruscant, a reminder of everything that was wrong with the old Empire. Decadent, isolated, self-obsessed and exploitative.”

Perreia’s face clouded again, wondering if the Admiral was testing him. “Exploitative, Sir?”

Kotta nodded. “No Empire can survive if all it is ever _seen_ to do is take. Coruscant was a very visible monument to that taking. The other species of the galaxy had only to look to the sky to see a reminder of how little they gained from Palpatine’s arrangement. You see, it is not what you actually _do_ that matters, it is the _appearance_ you are doing.” Perreia was always equally disquieted and warmed by the Admiral sharing his doubts about the old Emperor’s leadership. He would never be so frank with the rest of the Officers – many of them still worshipped the Sith who had built the Empire. Sighing, Kotta pushed the conversation forward, “Anyway, that’s enough pop philosophy and political science for one day. Do you have your report for me?”

Perreia, pursing his lips and rolling his eyes back as he recalled a torrent of information – information that could only be held in his own mind, saving it anywhere would risk the mission, began his report. He recounted the battle for Starkiller base, the flight of General Hux, Ren and Snoke, the size of the rebel forces…

There, the Admiral interjected, “Just X-Wings and a YT light freighter, no capital ships?”

Perreia shook his head, “No, none”, he replied.

The Admiral sat back in his chair, clasping his hands together. “At least they managed to use the weapon before they were defeated…” he paused, “What did the Order do after the battle?”

Perreia stopped, hesitating for a second. “I don’t know where Ren and Snoke went, they disappeared. Hux took to his Star Destroyer, _Finalizer_ , hunting for the resistance. He went to D’Qar first, but they’d already cleared out. We don’t know where they are now.” Kotta nodded to himself, knowing the rebels had fallen back towards Ryloth, and taken refuge on an uninhabited moon orbiting a gas giant. He had a probe sitting silent in the asteroid belt between the moon and the planet – each and every rebel movement was being tracked and transmitted to him once a day.

Perreia continued his report, giving the deployments of smaller ships, troop transports, and summarising the movements of the First Order. When Perreia finished, The Admiral crossed his arms, thinking for a moment. Perreia could see him running calculations in his head. He could almost watch the decisions processing through the Admiral’s eyes, like a logic circuit, AND, OR, EOR looping around to find the best path to victory. Then the Admiral took a small black cylinder out of his pocket and offered it to Perreia. “Captain, as soon as you have word that Ren is back aboard Hux’s flagship, activate this transponder.” Perreia took the transponder from the Admiral, rotating it in his fingers. “What happens then, Sir?”

Admiral Kotta smiled, leaning all the way back in the chair, spreading his arms wide, savouring the look on Perreia’s face as he announced: “We show the entire galaxy only we can protect them from the First Order, and that this new Empire will be different, distant from the insanity of religious zealots.”

He paused for a moment, and smiled again.

“We kill Kylo Ren.”

 

 

 


	2. Resistance

Jungles of a forgotten moon stretched out in front of Poe Dameron, and a weird sense of déjà vu came over him. A resistance base, hidden among the trees and humidity of a jungle moon, swirling around a huge gas giant was eerily reminiscent of his home – Yavin 4. Given the lack of any name for this forgotten planet, and its more forgotten moon, Poe had taken to calling this Yavin Bore. It was a name that, he felt, captured exactly what living here was like. Waiting, waiting, waiting. He just wanted to hop onto the nose of his X-wing, take it up through the atmosphere and jump anywhere.

He looked up, gazing into the hazy blue. Even in the full light of the sun, the thin atmosphere of this moon was transparent enough, and the local star was faint enough, for some of the stars to shine through. He could pick one, any one, and just fly straight to it, but orders were orders, and General Organa had been very clear – they were to lie low.

He was bolted out of his reverie by his Commlink blipping at his hip. He clicked the channel open, and a familiar female voice came through the link: “Poe, need you at the briefing room immediately. Urgent.” General Organa clicked to close the call before Poe could even answer. She’d been acting out of character since the battle, cold, distant, curt. Poe was willing to cut her a lot of slack at the best of times, but given recent events his patience was near infinite.

The other squadron commanders were already around the command console when Poe arrived. The General stood at the console, staring at the door with a frustrated expression on her face. As ever, C3PO stood just to her side – even he had eventually learned to keep his mouth shut around the General. Now was _never_ the time.

She began: “We have reports that the First Order has sent a Star Destroyer to Lothal. Given that planet’s history of rebelling against the Empire, we think it is likely the order plans to make an example of the planet.”

One of the other commanders – Shem Ulina, the Twi’lek commander of the Stiletto squadron, spoke first. “What do we plan to do, we don’t have the fire power to take out a star destroyer here.” The General gave him a withering look. “No, we don’t. We can however, distract the star destroyer while transports evacuate as many people as possible.” Poe must have shown his discomfort more than he expected, the General’s eyes snapped up to him, and her voice snapped in turn, “Do you have something to say Poe?”

He took his hands out of his pockets, his voice as close to nervous as he ever gets, “Just, if we’re going to cover evacuation… that means you think they’re there to… kill _everyone_?” Poe suddenly realised that behind the anger, the frustration, and the defensiveness, the General really just looked tired. “It hasn’t stopped them before I guess. We can run interference, but we won’t get you that much time.” Leia looked at him, trying to push a wave of gratitude towards him through the energy around her. “Anything is better than nothing.”

…

As the squadrons of X-wings rose above the trees of their moon base, and raced through the atmosphere, tearing fiery lacerations through the atmosphere, far away across the vast emptiness of space, a remote probe slowly hovered above the asteroid belt. The squat, hemispherical craft, too small to pick up on any sensors, beeped quietly, recording the course of the craft as they aligned for their hyperspace jump. The probe checked its databanks, locating its clock. The numbers counted down under four hours. The probe beeped again and descended back into the cover of the belt.

…

Poe’s X-Wing was the first to drop out of hyperspace, the star-lines fading away into the black of space and the blue-green ball of Lothal looming in front. In the distance, he could see the shadow of the Star Destroyer looming over the planet. He could almost imagine the chaos on the bridge, and Hux barking at his crew in that ridiculous booming style of his as the rest of the X-Wings resolved themselves around Poe.

“Blue one, we’re too far out, they’ll rip us apart with their laser batteries before we get near.” The voice crackled through Poe’s comm. From behind, he heard BB8’s excited beeping and could practically hear the droid’s head swivelling in anticipation. Poe smiled, “Yeah buddy, that’s a good idea.”

Poe clicked his comm, replying: “Yeah, I see that, Stiletto One. We’ll have to take a little hop straight at them. Let’s see if we can give this bastard a bout of Trench Run Disease.”

“Got it, Blue one, what distance are you reading?” Shem’s voice was eerily calm as he coaxed himself into a battle trance.

“I have 0.4 AU, gonna be a tight one, Stiletto one.” Poe punched the calculations into his nav-com, feeling the hairs on his hands and arms prickle up as he wrapped his hand around the throttle. He always had this excited feeling tingling through him before a dogfight, before it gave way to the contradictory calm of battle. BB-8 gave a concerned beep, followed by what counted as a consoling sigh for the droid, and Poe watched the computer slightly recalibrate. Poe smiled. _Always a team_ , he thought.

He punched the Starfighter into hyperspace, punching back out almost immediately, the star-lines never fully forming, just rippling past him. BB8 squealed as space first went blue and then almost immediately turned the dark grey of a Star Destroyer as the ship loomed almost right at his ship’s nose. He heard BB8 beep twice sharply. “Yeah, buddy, we’re low, way too low.” The momentum of his hyperdrive forced him to push the throttle all the way forward, while stressing his forward thrusters and yanking the ship upwards as he careened towards the star destroyer’s flank.

The other two squadrons dropped out of hyperspace behind him and squealed upwards, their foils dropping into combat position. He smiled feeling the rest of the world fade away as he focussed on his surroundings. He could almost feel the Star Destroyer beside him, almost able to see the pilots rushing to their TIE’s in the landing bay.

He swivelled his head around the cockpit, taking in his surroundings when he realised the Destroyer was not alone. Around it, two Lancer frigates and four Tartan cruisers sat ready. He felt a shiver of fear run up his spine. Starfighter killers. A fraction of a second later the cruisers opened up, filling space with tracing lines of laser fire. They began to angle themselves so they could fire all their cannons towards the X-Wings. Soon over a hundred laser turrets would be tracking them.

Poe felt excitement, fear, and readiness in the pit of his stomach, and he coaxed the X-Wing towards the Star Destroyer, hoping to take refuge in its trenches before the salvoes really began. His sensors began beeping wildly as the Destroyer disgorged its compliment of fighters. The fast moving ships tearing across space in his direction.

A squadron of them were racing into his path, and time seemed to slow, and his view seemed to zoom instantaneously on each of the pilots. He could feel their hands of the sticks of their fighters, anticipate their actions, he could feel them licking their lips, biting their tongues, and the chatter across their radios was in his head. He smiled, _you poor bastards are mine,_ BB-8 must have read his mind, because he beeped loudly, _alright then buddy – ours._

He took his fighter into a steep dive, barrelling under the squadron, spraying a short blast of fire as he wove back around towards them. In just one tracer across them, two TIEs exploded. His wingmen lurched forward, dispatching one more. Just one fighter remained in their direct path, and Poe swung his ship upside down, feeling the inertial dampeners struggling to keep up with his manoeuvres. From his inverted position, he fired at the TIE, pulling his stick around into a twisting turn, knowing which way the pilot would try to weave to avoid his fire. He whooped as the other fighter lit up, exploding into pieces.

He sped down towards the trenches in the Star Destroyer’s sides, able to hear the sounds of battle through his radio. It was eerie, the silence of space, mixed with the short concentrated blasts of fire over his radio. He heard Shem scream:

“One of the Cruisers is tracking me, dammit! … Can’t get … my tail”, his radio crackled as electromagnetic interference disrupted his comms, “fire getting closer” Poe heard a blast over the radio, and the sickening shudder of blaster striking shield. “I’m hit! I’m … Bastard’s got … Wait … n’t understand … damage … repeat, no dam…”

Poe’s felt his eyes widen reflexively as he absorbed the information. “Repeat, Stiletto one, repeat!”

Shem’s reply took a second as he waited until he reached the cover of the Star Destroyer, his confusion clearly carrying over the line. “Poe, these bloody cruisers are firing blanks, all light, and no heat! Doesn’t make sense, unless… Is this some kind of trap?”

Poe delicately directed his fighter along the Star Destroyer, launching missiles almost absent-mindedly at the ship’s turbolasers. _Shem was right, it made no sense, why fire blanks?_ A tiny flash of inspiration hit him. _The electromagnetic disruption? Why?_ He racked his brain, trying to think. Then it hit him, like a searing flash of blaster fire. He punched his comms. “Disengage! All wings, disengage! Fall back outside laser range.”

The reply came from his own wingman, Jessika. “What is it, blue one?”

Poe exhaled as he said something impossible. “It’s a trap alright, just not for us.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

Admiral Kotta stood by the command console of his flagship, the _Spear of Malice_. He smiled as the star-lines faded and the image in front of him materialised itself. It had gone exactly to plan. The Star Destroyer was manoeuvring around so it could face the X-Wings with all of its main batteries. In doing so, the huge ship exposed its engines.

The _Fury_ was much smaller than the nearly three kilometre long Star Destroyer, as necessitated by a secret fleet. Yet, this ship was proof size didn’t matter – the dark, sleek fuselage was bristling with long range rail-guns and proton torpedo tubes, the ship was like whole battery of sniper rifles strapped to a speeder-bike. He turned to his communications officer. “Duty Officer, send the activation order to our sleepers. Gunnery, target the engines. Navigation, track those X-Wings, I want their coordinates if they stop.” The three officers saluted, voiced their ascent and turned to their teams to split the orders.

…

Perreia felt his stomach flutter as the Comms console beeped. Lieutenant Aspin turned from the screen and nodded to him. He could imagine the officers getting their orders on the other ships. Without him having to give orders he could see their troopers taking up positions around the room, and arming their blasters. His heart started pounding, he could feel the next order forming in his throat. _It is do or die,_ he thought to himself.

“Roll ship to starboard. Divert all power to weapons. Switch from laser batteries to carronades.” Everyone on the bridge carried out his orders without question, he wasn’t sure the next one would go down so well. “Gunnery, lock onto the Star Destroyer. Prepare to fire all carronades.” Silence descended over the bridge for a moment. His gunnery Sergeant looked up from his desk, a question in his eyes, “Sir?”

Perreia heard the click as a trooper readied his blaster, aimed at the Sergeant. Perreia couldn’t see the trooper behind him, but could read the drawing of his gun on the pallor of the Sergeant’s face. Perreia felt beads of sweat coalesce into streams of brine flowing from his arm pits. He could feel the rest of the bridge’s eyes focus in on him, could sense their gazes flicking from him to the troopers around the room, back and forth.

The Silence stretched. Perreia had prepared for this moment in every quiet pause since he activated the Admiral’s transponder. Sometimes he managed to convince the gunner, others, the gunner stood, saluted to him, and fought back tears as he profusely declared his loyalty to the one true Empire. At night though, a niggling feeling had invaded the darkness around his bed and burrowed into his mind. The men would be too conditioned to the First Order, they would mock him, declare they would die before betraying the order. Perreia met eyes with Aspin, her calm gaze steadying his nerves for a moment. She nodded at him, her jaw clenched tight.

Aspin heard Perreia clearing his throat with a cough, the slight pause before he spoke stretched out across the eons. His face was pale, his concern and uncertainty showing to her, she could see him trying to hide it and wondered how many on the crew could see through the mask he was trying to don.

“We … I, on behalf of the Empire”, he added quickly, “offer you a choice, to declare your loyalty to the Empire … You will …” He coughed, nervously, “After the battle, you will have the choice of whether to reenlist in the fleet. You all fight in the name of the First Order for the dream of something larger. _We_ are that something larger.” She could almost see him struggling not to add “I think.” to the end of the sentence.

The Silence lasted a little longer, the crew looking around, but now their eyes were not on Perreia. They had turned to glance towards the Gunnery Sergeant, as his faced flushed red and he sat back into his chair, exhaling slowly. The Sergeant sat, staring blankly at the screen now, glancing at Perreia then, and taking in the crew’s eyes, the troopers’ blasters and Perreia’s desperate stare – all pointed at him.

The Sergeant sighed, and Aspin could hear his hands tapping the controls on his console. A second later, he said quietly, hesitantly: “Ready to fire, Sir.”

Aspin felt the tension flood out of the room, as the rest of the crew quickly decided to follow his lead. The fear left Perreia’s face with a flush of colour, and his order came. “Fire all weapons.”

Their eyes met, and Perreia nodded to her, his eyes motioning to the door. Aspin saluted curtly, spun on her heels and made for the door. A knot of excitement was already building in the base of her stomach.

She strode from the bridge, the heavy thump of her boots on the metal floor reverberating through the narrow corridors. She followed the turn and junction numbers, guiding herself through a mental map of the ship towards the Starboard hatch.

She climbed the ladder to the hatch, feeling the excitement spread from her stomach with each upward step. The little know spread out, like a burst of light pushing down the trunks of her legs, making the muscles twitch. Her hands were tense as she struggled to work the mechanism and open the hatch.

Pulling herself inside the Admirals interdictor, still perched on the ship’s hull, she took to the pilot’s chair and wrapped her fingers around the controls. She flicked the controls to decouple the Interdictor and felt it float out into space, realising only the auxiliary thrusters had power routed to them. The engines roared as they powered up, and she brought the ship screaming towards the Star Destroyer, diving down under the wings of TIE fighters, avoiding the tracers of green laser fire splitting space around her. The weakened stealth generator would now make her ship visible to the naked eye, but not to sensors. It would have to do.

She passed under the huge ship, twisting hers into a tight left turn, feeling herself being pushed back and right into the chair. She could see the blue-white hum of the landing bay’s shields ahead of her, and the image of her ship exploding as it struck the field passed through her head for a moment, but she shook it away. _The security code had to work_ , she thought to herself.

She pulled the ship into a spine-compacting turn up through the landing bay’s open maw and imagined with a smirk the surprise of everyone in there to see a ship that didn’t appear on anyone’s sensors just appearing in the hangar. She brought her nose back down, pointing straight at the command tower in the ship.

First she fired electrified missiles through the gap, there was little damage and virtually no explosion, but with any luck the powerful pulse would fry the electronics and break the ship’s command network here. Then she switched to her bunker-busting bombs and fired a small salvo, immediately diving the ship down through the open bay, not waiting for the destruction.

…

Poe sat mesmerised by the maelstrom taking place in the distance. The six smaller ships had turned and were bombarding the huge ship with heavy laser fire. The ships that had jumped in were holding their distance, firing blue-burning rail shots at the rear of the Star Destroyer, too nimble for the ship to wheel to face, they followed the ship’s tail as it tried to get them in its sights.

The TIEs had spun around from pursuing the X-Wings, and were returning to defend the ship, but caught on the wrong side of a net of patrol ships, the squadrons were being torn apart by ships that were definitely not firing blanks any more.

BB-8 gave an inquisitive beep behind him. Poe angled his head toward him, “I have absolutely no idea buddy.” The droid beeped again, chirpy with excitement. “I’m not so sure it’s a good thing BB.” The droid let him know it disagreed with a little squeal.

Poe’s eyes were drawn to the main hangar’s bay. He must have imagined that dark shape moving against it, his sensors showed nothing so near the ship. A second later, he imagined the dark shape bursting out again… or perhaps not _imagined_ – because he certainly hadn’t imagined the huge fireball spraying out of the bay. BB-8 yelped in excitement. Again, Poe was not so sure.

The TIEs that had made it past the curtain of laser fire and were descending on one of the Tartan cruiser’s, but this time Poe was certain he could see the silhouette of the ship against the backdrop of stars. He brought up his optical viewfinder, watching for the shape.

He could follow the shape darting towards the cruiser only by watching when it blocked the stars behind it. It made a near-impossible diving run, flicking a single tracer of fire across three of the TIEs. The rest of ships scattered into a confused blob, before reforming into a defensive circle.

The black shape dove down, coming around under the ships. It made another impossible turn, darting up between the circling ships. This time he saw that it wasn’t one single tracer but several perfectly aimed bursts, so closely timed it was almost impossible to see the gaps between them. Poe exhaled, realising he had been holding his breath, and he almost whispered: “That’s one hell of a pilot.”

There was a flash of blue around the entire Star Destroyer as all of the ships around it opened up with a timed broadside, as a flurry of rail-gun shots hammered the tail. The field around the ship crackled, tendrils of white snaking along the ship and then with a quick flash, the shield failed. Howls and whoops came of his radio. “Blue one, they’re going to take the bastard down!” Jessika’s voice was dripping with anticipation. Poe wondered again, _what the hell was going on?_

 


	4. Finalizer

The alert klaxons really began wailing at around the same time the System’s Officer shouted, “Shields at 0%”. Hux stood on the deck, clasping his hands behind him, trying to remain calm in the chaos around him. He failed.

“Can someone get me a line to fighter command!?” The shout was pointless, he knew that, he just had to vent his anger, he hated this helplessness. They all had felt a huge explosion shake the ship just before the command went quiet. Hux turned to his gunnery officer. “Why are they still flying? Why have we not destroyed them?”

The man gulped, a bead of sweat running from his balding scalp down the side of his face. “Sir, there appears to be a problem with the computer systems, our targeting network is not responding.” He winced as he waited for Hux’s response.

Hux thought about shouting at the man, then decided better. _I can be angry later, now is time to survive,_ he thought to himself. “Can we bypass the network or get the weapons back online?”

The Sergeant shook his head. “We can’t bypass it, but if we reroute the power from some other sections, we may be able to kick-start the system again.”

Hux nodded, breathing in and out slowly, trying to calm himself, feeling the anger bubbling just beneath the surface. “Divert the power and get me some firepower online.” The Sergeant gave his affirmative, saluted and turned to the crew.

Hux looked up to the viewport, watching as another barrage of lasers came their way, maddened by his inability to get his eyes on the other ships his sensors had picked up beyond weapon range. Standing by the view port, his hands clasped behind his back and head bowed, was Kylo Ren. Hux wondered what the freak was doing. For all his supposed power, he seemed to be useless when it really mattered. Ren’s head rose, as if he could hear Hux, and he turned.

“Prepare for an evacuation, General” Hux was taken aback by Ren’s insolence. “Retreat?” He gasped, “We are only facing a half-dozen cruisers and a few frigates, we can handle this. Leave naval tactics to the navy.”

Ren spun around and faced Hux, he could imagine his eyes fixing on him behind the helmet, trying to bore through him. “Something is coming, General. I can feel it. Order the evacuation.”

Hux exhaled in exasperation. “You are free to go to your shuttle and run away with your tail between your legs. Just like you did on Starkiller. Me and my _soldiers_ ” he put a stress on that particular word, reminding Ren of what he was not, “have a battle to fight.” Hux wondered for a second why he had said fight, and not win.

Ren continued to just stare at Hux. “So be it. It is not my life which is in danger. These are your men, their deaths are your responsibility.”

Hux could feel the eyes of the whole bridge on him and Ren, that damn freak was going to break the morale of his men. Hux turned to them and barked, “What are you idiots staring at? Get to your stations and give me a bead on those frigates!”

…

“Admiral their shield is down, our next shot should disable their engines.” Kotta’s gunnery Sergeant was almost smiling with the flush of triumph. “Steady, Sergeant, this isn’t won yet. Communications, contact the ships for phase two.” Kotta was watching all the viewfinders spread throughout the bridge, trying to siphon as much information from them into his brain as possible. The Finalizer was taking a battering but it wasn’t going anywhere yet. He heard the Communications Officer send the orders across an encrypted channel to their waiting ships.

The latest salvo of rail-gun shots hammered the engines of the Star Destroyer, and Kotta watched as the huge exhausts exploded and the ship came to a shuddering stop as its momentum died. A few seconds later a series of bright flashes marked their carriers dropping out of hyper-space right above the ship. A set of large freighter ships appeared above the Star Destroyer, which immediately began hammering them with turbolaser fire. _Hold, Hold, Hold,_ Kotta thought to himself. They began to spread out along the length of the ship, descending while their shields held against the barrage.

The large, planar Droid Carriers disgorged their cargo of small droids and jumped immediately back out of the system. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of little blips appeared on the sensors, right above the Star Destroyer. They descended towards the ship, some of them being shattered by the torrent of turbo-laser fire the ship splitting the blackness with. _No matter, we brought more than enough._

Kotta could see the small droids exploding when they were just above the laser turrets, spraying a glittering cloud around the lasers. Kotta smiled, turning to nod to his navigator. The frigates jolted into action, moving quickly towards the huge ship.

Kotta smiled again, imagining the chaos aboard the Star Destroyer.

…

“What are they!?” Hux had been just feeling himself taking some sort of control again when the new ships had jumped in and disappeared again. His scanner operator looked concerned. “It’s some kind of anti-laser countermeasure, Sir. Our turrets can’t track anymore, their signals are jammed.”

Hux cursed, not quite under his breath. He heard Ren’s maddening laugh from over at the viewport. “I told you General, something was coming. Something else still is.”

Hux was thinking furiously. Now their focus on the engines made sense, he couldn’t just order the ship to move out of the cloud. There were no new impacts from incoming fire, he presumed the ships around him were now focussing on mopping up what was left of their fighter wings. It was infuriating, sat here like a lame fish just floating in the ocean, not able to fire back, not able to move.

He could hear Ren’s boots stalking over. He didn’t want to look at him, he just clenched his jaw tight, feeling the bile rising in his throat. Hux didn’t like defeat. It made him feel physically ill.

“I suggest you take my earlier suggestion. We have no other option.” Hux snapped his head back up at Ren, and said “No! We have sent a distress call, another of our destroyers will answer. These small ships will take forever to pierce our armour. We can manage this!”

Ren didn’t so much laugh as do something in between a snort and a sigh. “Attempting to snatch destruction from the jaws of defeat, General?”

…

“What the hell was _that?”_ Poe’s voice betrayed his incredulity. Jessika’s voice came over his radio, more clear than before, “Looks like some kind of chaff, blue one.” BB-8 beeped in agreement. Poe looked out, leaning over his controls, trying to get a closer view. He had to respect whoever was commanding this attack. They were taking out the pride of the First Order’s fleet without losing a single ship.

Another set of blips appeared on his sensors, as a set of fat, bulbous looking ships appeared around the Star Destroyer, dropping out of hyperspace. Poe knew almost all of the military ships developed since the Clone Wars, but he had no idea what those were. “Blue two, any idea what those ships are?” Poe asked.

“Look to me like Ship-breakers, Sir, for salvaging scrap from wrecks.” He could almost hear the flash of inspiration hit Jessika, then a laugh came across the radio. “They’re literally going to tear it apart!” He sat back, thinking about it for a second. _Hell of a way to go_ , he thought to himself. “We’ve seen enough. All squadrons, let’s get back to –“

He was interrupted by squealing from BB-8, and a set of proximity alarms from his sensor array. Another ship had jumped in practically on top of them. Poe jumped to the controls, taking the X-Wing into a spin, but he was too slow. A set of blue flashes struck his canopy, spreading over the ship like water. A second later the computers died, and he heard a solid thud from behind him. “BB, you okay?” Nothing.

He craned his head around and saw BB-8 slumped over, no lights flashing. A second later he felt the ship shudder as a tractor beam ensnared it and he began to be pulled up towards the ship. He craned his head up to get a look at it.

It was a preposterous looking craft, a small civilian ship barely larger than a fighter that looked like a long rectangular sheet of metal had been glued to one side, like a huge lopsided wing. He could see a whole array of tractor turrets pointing down, and could see other X-Wings being pulled in towards the arm. Poe made a quick count of the ships, and saw that some were missing. _Good,_ he thought to himself, _at least someone will get word back to base._

There was nothing Poe could do but sit and wait for his ship to be pulled in. Unbeknownst to Poe, in the meantime, chaos had taken reign on the bridge of the _Finalizer_.

 


	5. Theft

Hux was running around the bridge, barking orders at his crew. He was trying to take control of the situation, but Kylo could feel that the situation was too far from his control to ever be wrangled back in. He closed his eyes, reaching out through the force. He could feel all of the men on this ship, a full legion of Stormtrooper’s hearts beating in the darkness of the universe, he stretched his feelings out further, and tried to feel out into the abyss of space. He could feel some of the TIE pilots, still sweeping around the Star Destroyer, he could feel their fear, their confusion. He connected with their fear, focussed on it, fed on it, and used it to fuel his hatred, locking the anger away in himself. He would need it.

Somewhere, there was another presence, something pulling at the edge of his consciousness. Something… distant, something… faint… but, powerful, he could feel a speck of brightness out there calling, calling him?

 _It was the Light_. He recoiled from it, repulsed it, he didn’t give it his hatred, because that might fuel it. No, he pushed the presence away and did not wonder where or who it was. It was not him. Not him. Not _within_ him. He focussed again on that pit of hatred in his stomach, but found it corrupted, the hatred and its fuel of rage had been contaminated by fear. Like a fleck of purple among the black, it did not contrast too much… it would not lead him astray. _Fear would have to do_. _Better than nothing. No, not better than nothing. Better than… something._ He could not say it, he _would_ not. He must force himself to be certain, his Master would sense his doubt.

He opened his eyes and the noises of the frantic bridge came back to him, flooding in like water ripping through an opened lock. Hux was watching him. Had he spoke to him? He must have. What would he have said? Kylo had trouble sometimes with retreating too much into himself when it was not appropriate. _Hadn’t Vader had a pod for that?_ But Lord Vader wouldn’t show him, he didn’t speak to him, not anymore. Kylo reached out across the room with the force, to feel Hux, he might judge his intentions then. He felt… anger… disbelief… fear. Hatred too. It was fortunate Hux was so stupid and spineless, he could have been a threat if he was not. Kylo made a guess at Hux’s intention. “Have you finally reconsidered my proposal, General?” He made sure his voice was dripping with a mocking malice.

Hux’s face did something between a frown and a grimace. _So much hatred, and yet you are still so weak._ “Yes, we will have the Stormtroopers prepare their transports…” The fool trailed off, suddenly lacking the fortitude to ask.

“And you, General, where will you be?” Kylo made sure his voice was now too disinterested to contain malice, as if he were speaking to an inanimate object.

Hux straightened slightly. “I will be on your ship.” It was a statement, not a request. Kylo smirked behind his mask. “So be it, General, join me.” The ship shuddered and some of the men around them stumbled, as the latest wave of ships clung to the hull and started doing whatever it was they came to do. From the disturbance he felt, Kylo knew it wasn’t good, and that was enough for him. Hux didn’t stumble, he just looked up towards when the sound came from and frowned.

“My ship…” he almost whispered.

“And now, we have to get to mine, General”

…

Lieutenant Aspin was flanking over the capital ship, hunting TIE fighters as they tried to clear the cloud around the hull by flying through it. She wasn’t flying so much by tactic or thought as by feeling. She just felt where she had to go, and her hands followed. She felt as if she could close her eyes and still pilot the ship. Of course, she didn’t. She might be confident in her abilities, but she wasn’t arrogant to the point of stupidity.

A TIE fighter’s shape resolved in her viewpoint for a second, then it was gone in a hail of green light and a burst of fire. Aspin always trusted her instincts when in the cockpit and right now they told her to veer violently to the left, and she did. Just in time to see a black Upsilon-class command shuttle rising out from the port landing pad, its wings spreading out as it reached out into space. She pushed her stick down, fired the afterburners, and followed.

She knew the ship, Kylo Ren’s. An upgraded version of the venerable line of ship, his soared deceptively quickly. The interdictor’s radio crackled. Only one person had that number. “Admiral?” She answered.

His calm voice followed, “I believe that is Kylo Ren’s shuttle. Can you stop it before he goes into hyperspace?”

Aspin looked at the Shuttle, making a quick calculation in her head. “Not likely, but I can try.” She replied, knowing enough about the Admiral to realise he would prefer an accurate answer to a hopeful one.

He paused. “Before you waste your time Lieutenant, any higher priority targets you’d suggest?” She wasn’t sure whether the Admiral was inviting her to say there was no higher priority than Ren or actually asking her the question.

She decided to take a risk. “Well, Sir, there was one possibility that had occurred to me…”

…

Admiral Kotta walked curtly from the Communications console to his Duty Officer, a strange twinkle in his eye. “How many Atmospheric Exposure suits do we have on board?” The Duty Officer’s eyes widened at the question, but they quickly narrowed back down and went up towards the sky as he counted in his memory. “Two or three hundred, Sir.”

Kotta nodded. “Good have them made ready, and clear two hundred Marines for a boarding action, and all of our repair and engineering staff. Tell them to bring all the equipment needed to jury rig a hyperdrive.”

The Officer called back towards Kotta as he crossed towards the Bridge door. “But Sir, there are eight thousand Stormtroopers aboard that ship!”

Kotta smiled. “Not for much longer.”

…

Aspin swung her interdictor down towards the belly of the ship. She scanned the underside of the hull, looking for her targets. She caught sight of three bulbous protrusions and smiled. _Got you_. She readied the bunker busting bombs, and slowed her ship so she would have time to reload between each shot.

Sailing past the hemispheres, she fired one bunker-busting bomb into each one, reloading in between. She flew away, spun quickly while her ship switched to her electrified missiles and swung around again for another run. This time she was able to go much fast, and fire a salvo of two missiles into each. Satisfying blue lattices spread between the three auxiliary generators, and then with an effervescent crescendo of white-blue light, the generators died.

She punched her radio, “Life support should be down.”

“Good, en route.” The Admiral didn’t sound excited, just ready.

She smiled as she flew the length of the stranded ship. Not a bad haul for one day. Not bad at all.

 

END OF PART ONE


	6. INTERLUDE I: The Triumvirate

INTERLUDE I:

The Triumvirate

Five years earlier…

Devro Moray was accustomed to sitting in dive bars at the edge of civilised space. He was many things: a merchant – certainly, a smuggler – occasionally, a mercenary – perhaps, long ago, and a ‘galactic entrepreneur’, always. Thinking about Calrissian made him smile. It seemed so long ago, back when he was a pimple-faced teenager working on Cloud City. Devro had been busy since then. Tried his hand at becoming a Mandalorian – the discipline hadn’t agreed with him. As for smuggling, the profit margin wasn’t exactly plentiful. To top it all off, the uncertainty of the last thirty years hadn’t been the best for commerce.

That’s what had taken him out to the Unknown Regions, tales of wondrous crystals with unbelievable properties, secretive research stations which would pay premium for supplies and discretion, and large secretive fleets out in the nothingness of space, conspiring to rebuild a new Empire – but they still needed to eat. He had done well out of that. The small rump of what called itself simply the ‘Empire’ had become his home. Then, the man had just had to get stupid and started to care about what happened to his home. That all brought a set of circumstances together which ended with him sitting in a dive-bar on the far edge of the middle of nowhere, waiting for two of the most dangerous people he had ever met.

From the scorching heat outside, a tall, bland looking man walked into the bar, stalking silently across the Devro. He smiled. “Loren, ‘bout time you showed up”

Kotta smiled back, taking a seat and motioning the server to the table. “Had a spot of bother avoiding the Republic’s patrols. Handled it.” He smiled. “Handled them.” Kotta ordered his drink, then turned back to Devro. “Any sign of our partner in crime?”

Devro shook his head. “You know her, probably met some handsome narcissist on her way, and wanted to humiliate him a little.”

Kotta smiled, turning to look around the bar. “I’m looking forward to how they react when she gets here.” Devro nodded, a knowing look in his eye.

They didn’t have to wait long, before ten minutes had passed a woman dressed in an unnecessarily form-fitting black jumpsuit entered the bar, saw the two co-conspirators sitting at the table, and crossed to them.

The two men nodded to her, Kotta motioned his head in deference, leaning close. “Senator, kind of you to join us.” The Woman smiled in response, her eyes twinkling with the cunning it took to rise to the top of politics in a culture like the Empire of the fringe.

Her voice was cold, with all the humanity of a psychotic droid. “So, Gentleman, shall we start?”

Devro nodded. “I started a long time ago, milady. I’m ready.”

She smiled “I know Devro, you are a true patriot.” He wasn’t sure if she was trying to mock him or not, continuing, “That is why we are even here at all.” She looked at the ‘galactic entrepreneur’: “Do you have the Crystals?”

“Yes. Enough to fund our friend for a decade.”

“Untraceable?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone know you have them?”

“Just my first mate. He can be relied on.”

She nodded. “Good. Slide them over to the Captain.”

Devro took out a small pouch and slid it across to Kotta. He leaned back into his chair. “That’s my part done.”

She smiled. “No. It’s not.”

Devro frowned. “What else could you need?”

“Somewhere quiet, off _all_ the grids. Even our own. If we are going to give the Captain here a private army, he needs somewhere suitable to hide it.”

 


	7. Rebels

Finn awoke to find himself in a dank and damp little husk of a room. A bright surgical light was just over his head, forcing him to blink furiously as his eyes adapted to the light. A torrent of memories ran through his mind with speed. _The attack on Starkiller base, finding Rey, the oscillator… Han… Han was… dead._ Finn had barely known him, but for some reason he felt a well of sadness in the pit of his stomach. Han had been the third person _Finn_ had ever met. A mix of unwarranted memories came flooding into his head, called by the memory of another name, a torrent of training exercises and drills, then the chants and rituals that maintained the indoctrination into the First Order’s philosophy. _Finn. FN-2187. Finn. FN-2187._ He screwed his eyes shut and whispered ‘Finn, Finn, Finn’ under his breath.

“Well, look who has decided the re-join the world of the living!” A thin woman with unkempt dark hair came into Finn’s field of view. He didn’t feel quite up to straining his neck to look her in the eyes just yet, so he stared blankly into a point in the ceiling just past the bright light. “How’re ya feeling?”

Finn tried to form words with his mouth, to say something like: a _bsolutely great, can’t you see?_ But all that came out was a garbled mess, more like “abshurl grrr, kuhhsay?” He closed his eyes and groaned. Today was going to be a long day.

“You know, I think we might just give you a shot of adrenaline, maybe some steroids. We’re not exactly swimming in kolto or bacta around here right now.” Finn had a vague idea of what each of those words meant individually, but he couldn’t quite put them together with his groggy head. “I reckon the General will want to see you.” She laughed to herself wheezily. “Well, guess I should say General _s”_ stressing the ‘S’, a little too much. “Y’know, I didn’t know what to make a’ that other fellow right at first, but he seems like a good sort, for a smuggler.”

Finally deciding the time had come to test his stiff body, Finn grabbed the woman’s arm and pulled her down to him, “Lady, this is all fascinating, but if you can jab some of whatever that… goop over there is”, he pointed at a vial full of luminescent liquid, “that would be great.”

Her head bobbed backwards, obviously offended, but she just silently pulled some of the liquid into the syringe and jabbed it roughly in Finn’s arm. He closed his eyes as he felt it push into his body, waiting for the rush to hit. “That takes about five minutes to act there, love. So you just lie your pretty head back down and wait.” This time her voice was dripping with sarcasm. Finn realised he had really been too harsh. He lay back down, closing his eyes, to wait for the rush of the drug to hit him. The memories came flooding back in again. _Finn. FN-2187. Finn. FN-2187._

…

Leia stood at a circular command console, a holo-map of the known galaxy and known deployments of fleets shimmering in the air before her. She looked at Lothal, trying to stretch out with the force in the hope it would tell her something, anything, but there was nothing. She had never taken to her force abilities the way her brother had, and even so, she wasn’t sure the map could tell her anything about her missing pilots.

She sighed, feeling the weight of the past few months falling on her. Destroying Starkiller base had been more of a defensive move than an offensive one, she knew that. The First Order still had its capital ships, still had its legions, and still had her son. _No, not the First Order. Snoke. He had her son._ _Everything that had happened, happened because of Snoke._ She felt anger welling up within her, and not for the first time imagined killing Snoke. Another name came towards her conscious mind and she drove it away. Now was not the time. She looked at the map. They knew very little about where the First Order were, but at least they had enough eyes and ears to find out when one of their Star Destroyers went on a wander through charted space.

The sound of footsteps coming into the command centre shook her from her isolation, and she turned. “Lando, it was good of you to come on such short notice.”

Lando smiled, his face full of sympathy. The years had been kind to him, she thought. Lando looked much the same as he always had, a few extra lines here and a few more flecks of grey there. He didn’t wear the uniform of a Rebellion General anymore, he was back to his older self, a businessman. “You call, I come Leia. That’s what friends are for. So, I hear you have a missing pilot problem?”

Leia nodded, feeling her jaw tighten. “Three squadrons.” Lando’s eyes widened at the number. “They went to run interference on a Star Destroyer and we haven’t heard anything since.”

It was Lando’s turn to nod, his face a knot of conscious thought. “I have a few contacts out in the Outer Rim. If anyone was captured, they might have heard of it. If anything… else happened, they should know too.”

Leia looked at him, feeling through the force, feeling the complete lack of any ambiguity around his intentions. _Well, the man had certainly changed since Bespin._ A wave of old memories came unbidden to the surface, with an effort she buried herself in the force, pushing the past away. “There’s something else.” Lando nodded silently, bidding her to continue. “We have a boy here, I want you to take him.”

“And do what with him?”

Leia sighed. “I don’t really know. Train him, teach him to fly, I don’t know. He’s new to all of this, but he was a soldier, he should be useful if you get yourself into a fight.” She smiled. “And knowing your track record, I think that’s pretty likely.”

Lando laughed, spreading his hands out wide. “Now, Leia, is it really _my_ fault if the trouble keeps finding me? I just go around minding my own business, making my own credits and somehow end up getting shot at, those thing are in no way connect. Correlation, Causation, you know?”

Leia felt her mouth twitch into an unforced lopsided grin. “Yeah, Lando, that sounds _exactly_ like how it happens.” She saw Lando’s eyes twitch to a point over her shoulder, just before she felt a new presence in the room.

“Oh, Lando, this is Finn, the boy I was telling you about.”

Lando snorted, and Leia could feel Finn’s jaw drop. “Boy! Boy? I am not a boy, I’m-“, Finn caught himself, obviously remembering who he was talking to. “Wait, what were you telling him about?”

Leia smiled, turning to face Finn. “I want him to take you on board his ship.” Leia could read the concerned look on his face, and decided to play with him a little. “Don’t worry Finn, I didn’t tell him _everything_ about about you. If I did, he’d wouldn’t let you near his ship. Probably get it shot down like you did Poe”

Finn’s mouth opened wide, and his pitch shifted up a full octave. “Poe got us shot down, I got us out of that Star Destroyer!” Leia’s knowing smile stopped him in his tracks. “Aaaand, you already know that.”

“Yes I do. Finn, this is Lando Calrissian. He’s an old friend. I want you to join him and help him find Poe, he’s-”

Finn cut her off, “Wait, Poe is missing? You didn’t think to open with that one? You’re going after him Mr. Calrissian?” Leia was taken aback, she remembered Finn as having been nervous in her presence before.

Lando smiled. “It’s just Lando, kid, and yeah, I’m going to see if I can find Poe and the other pilots.”

“Alright, I’ll come with you, just let me pack my stuff.”

“I don’t think you had a choice, kid”

Leia watched as Finn turned and ran off. She smiled to herself. “I wonder how long until he remembers.”

Lando had a puzzled look on his face. “Remembers what?”

“He doesn’t exactly have anything to pack.”

…

Lando checked over the fuel cells of the _Lady Luck_ again. Even after all these years he still wasn’t really used to having a ship that wasn’t falling apart. The _Falcon_ had had so many moving parts and so much that could have gone wrong with it that he still checked everything each time, out of habit. He smiled, remembering that game of sabbac where Han had won the ship from him. The smile faded into a frown as he remembered. _Gone now._ He wondered where the _Falcon_ was, gone on some secret mission, he knew, but who was with Chewbacca now, he wasn’t so sure.

Finn came striding towards Lando, an old blaster rifle slung over one shoulder. “Hope you know how to use that.” Lando said, not really expecting a reply.

“I know a thing or two. Probably a thing or two more than you do.” Finn said as he walked up the ramp, not even pausing for a beat to acknowledge him. Lando smiled, _I think I might like this kid_ , he thought to himself.

Lando followed Finn into the ship, punching the pad by the ramp to raise it. “You don’t have a crew?” Finn was calling back from further down the hall.

“Don’t need one, kid, fly just well enough on my own.” He walked up to Finn, who was looking back at him. “You fly around on your own? That’s weird.”

Lando smiled. “You haven’t even begun to see weird, kid.”


	8. Ahch-to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey travels to the abandoned world of Ahch-to, where she comes face to face with a myth...

On Ahch-to, the press of history was impossible to ignore. The planet ran wild with winds of the force, massive gusts of unseen energy streaming across the surface and all the way up into the outer atmosphere. Those streams carried the memories of millennia within them, a history leading back into the unknown murk of unwritten history. How many Empires had passed by this planet through the millennia? How many ship captains had looked down at this emerald green world, with its archipelagos dotted among massive, wild oceans and thought that there was nothing here worth exploiting? How wrong they all had been.

More importantly, though, how many Jedi had stood on this soil? How many minds had reached out into those gusts of energy and felt the touch of the eons upon their soul? Names whispered on the wind, names with guttural noises splitting their syllables, the creations of alphabets and phonologies now long lost. Luke closed his eyes, sighed, and reached out again. It was an exhilarating feeling, the presence on Ahch-to. He could feel not just his immediate surroundings, but the entire planet as the winds carried his mind through the equator and to each pole. His mind stretched as far out as the faded outer-atmosphere, where only magnetic forces reached far into space, and back down as far as great abysses in the oceans, where magnificent and exotic life thrived. Everything here left a mark on the force, even the rocks, the soil, the seas, the fish – they all reached out to each other.

For a moment, Luke felt another presence, high above. It was an unusual one, a sensation the planet had not shared with him before. He followed it, racing along the winds to where it was. He couldn’t _see_ anything, but he could _feel_ , a distinct imprint upon the atmosphere of the planet. The shape of a ship ripping through the atmosphere at speed. He could feel the heat and vibration as the air pushed back against the intruder. He knew instinctively that there was only one ship which would follow him here, and on board he could feel a familiar presence. The _Falcon_. There was something else, another presence reaching out blindly through the force. It felt both completely familiar and absolutely strange at the same time.

Luke felt the water sprayed by the ship flying extremely low, leaving a wake like a sea-faring ship would as it raced towards the small outcrop he stood on. Then, his ears could hear the roar of a familiar engine carrying on the wind.

Luke closed his eyes, returned to meditating, and waited.

…

The wind smashed into Rey again and again as she climbed up the steps, cut haphazardly into the side of the island. She had dreamt of strange places her whole life, of being whisked away back into space to see all the wonders it held. Now those wonders were getting tiresome, it was wet, it was windy and she had not dressed for this kind of temperature.

She realised that when she reached the top of these steps, she would meet with Luke Skywalker. _Luke Skywalker_. She was about to walk right up to a myth and give him a weapon he hadn’t seen since his father tried to kill him. What do you say to a myth? “So… Hey, nice to see your real.” She shook her head, deciding that no matter what she said it would be stupid. _So I’ll just say nothing_. _Let him talk first._

She wondered whether Finn had awoken yet. She’d left D’Qar with him still in a comatose state, with no clear indications of when he would wake. _He’s going to be fine_ , she remembered the doctor’s thinly veiled lie.

As she came to a green clearing on the island, she saw him. Well, it. A statuesque figure in a hooded robe, standing on the edge of a cliff, looking out at the sea. She started walking slowly towards him, wondering what she would do if he just stood there and didn’t turn around.

That worry soon vanished, when he turned and she saw a bearded man, his face tanned, wearing a brown and beige robe _._ He just stared at her, piercing uncomfortably through her eyes. She didn’t think he was trying to read her in the way Kylo had on the ship. He was trying to read her the old-fashioned way, without the force.

She swung her satchel around, undid the clasps and took out the lightsaber. It caught awkwardly on the hem of the bag. With a yank, she took it out and offered it to him, feeling the wind buffet her body as she waited awkwardly. _What is he doing?_

Luke looked at the girl, she must be around the same age he was when he first held a lightsaber. As well, there was that little cylinder, sending a wave of memory and emotion crash over him in a tidal wave. He could see Old Ben holding the saber in his house, telling him of his father, the hero Jedi Knight. A half-fiction. He remembered first learning to use it in the Millenium Falcon, decades ago. He remembered too much. There was so much history bound in that little cylinder, and he was not sure whether it was of the good or bad variety.

His focus went from the weapon to the girl. He took in the lines of her face and saw in the determined set of her jaw the shadow of another face - an echo in his own past. He could feel her presence in the force, a source of energy pushing out in all directions, her fear forcing her to push out against him. He didn’t need to ask who she was, he could feel a name whispering on the winds. _Rey_. He could hear Ben's voice in his mind, and felt himself agreeing.  _Yes, the place of a Jedi is the here and now, the past and the emotions it invokes are a trap._

He decided to speak then, “I don’t need that one.” He smiled, brushed his robe to side and tapped the side of a lightsaber hilt strapped to his belt. “I have one right here.”

Now the girl moved, her arm falling to her side, but she still held that quizzical look on her face. “Why did you come?” He asked.

She blinked, he waited for her answer. “To find you.”

“And now you have, what did you expect to happen then?” Luke imagined her experience of seeing him must be like when he first met Yoda, the memory making him smile again.

Again she blinked, her brow furrowed. “I… I… I am not sure.”

He smiled. “Honesty.” Nodding, he looked at her again and tried to ponder what that familiar sensation was. “That will serve you well. Especially if you are honest with yourself.”

She straightened her spine. _Here it comes_. “I have to bring to you back to the resistance, Master Skywalker, your sister needs you at her side for the war. The First Order have come and the Republic cannot defend the core systems anymore, we need the Jedi.”

He smiled. _Wonder how long she spent perfecting every word of that little spiel._ “And if I say no? If I say I want to be left alone?”

She paused, again confusion spreading across her face. “I… I… can’t force you to come with us, but _I_ need you.”

“ _You_ need _me_? Why?”

None of this was going the way Rey had intended. He was inscrutable, just asking her simple, short questions. He wasn’t even saying enough for her to really read into. She decided to take his advice. _Honesty it is then_. “I need you to train me, to teach me how to be a Jedi.”

“I didn’t do so well last time.” He said, without much discernable emotion.

“That wasn’t you, it was Snoke he-“

“Do you even know who Snoke is?” he interrupted.

“Honestly, not really. But I know enough.” Rey’s brain was racing, she wasn’t sure what it was she was losing, what kind of competition this was but she was definitely losing.

“If I were to train you, what would you do with your new-found power?”

She paused, thinking for a moment, _no lies_. “I would fight Kylo Ren and his Master. I might kill them.”

“Do you hate them?”

She was about to deny, say she pitied them, because in some ways she did pity Kylo, but she also hated them. “I do.”

He nodded, seeming to expect the answer. “That hate will lead you down the same path as them. Do they make you angry?”

It seemed a stupid question. “When they attack the weak, kill the innocent.”

“And that anger will consume you.” He paused, nodding to himself, seeming to mull over her responses. “Do you fear them?”

She had a feeling she wouldn’t be able to give a right answer. “Yes.”

“That fear will lead you to anger, anger will feed your hate, and hate brings only suffering. These feed and fuel each other in symbiosis.”

_This conversation is going nowhere_ , she thought to herself. “Then what can I do!”

Luke sighed, crossing his arms. “A Jedi is at peace. Not at peace _with_ anything, just at peace. The road of a Jedi is longer than the one to darkness. It is more obscure and shrouded than the path to darkness, which is well lit. A Jedi is constantly in danger of straying from the path and must be wary of this. If you are to learn, you must learn peace, focus… clarity.”

He finished, looking at the girl. She seemed to understand enough to not like what he had to say. “You can teach me this.” A statement, not a question.

“The question is not whether I _can_ teach you, but whether I _should._ ” He could see her pause for a second, trying to think of what would be the right thing to say next.

“If you aren’t sure whether you should teach me, at least allow me to stay until you are.”

Luke thought for a moment, he knew himself well enough to realise he had decided before this conversation had even begun, but he wanted to consider his action. One niggling doubt tore at the carapace of his certainty. _Am I ready?_ He stopped, clearing all thoughts from his head, leaving only the present.

Luke sighed, looking away, staring out onto the swirling tumult of the ocean again, and thinking about the last student he had taken on. He closed his eyes for a moment, knowing he would regret his decision, “You can stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note on Luke, I realise that in the original trilogy his arc implied that love wasn't necessarily a path to the dark side and that's a running theme from the prequels and Anakin's fall to Return of the Jedi and his redemption through his love for his son, but I think given what has happened, Luke's opinions towards the dark side and emotion would probably have change after Ben Solo had turned to the Dark Side.
> 
> Because of that, I see him retreating more into what counts as conservatism among the Jedi, i.e. the more rigid form of the code and the rejection of emotion. However, I think this grates against Luke's own empathetic nature, so there'll always be conflict between him and the Jedi teachings (perhaps not making him a perfect founder for a new order).


End file.
